Once and Future One-Shots
by tyrannicpuppy
Summary: A collection of one-shots and potential story first chapters. Will contain all sorts of stuff from Romance and Fluff, to Angst and Death. Will be lots of Harmony!
1. An Erised Epiphany

_Based off a prompt by Matt Weber from the Harmony Co (18) Facebook Groups magnificent Prompt Bank. If you are a Harmony fan, you should give it a look, it's a lot of fun_.

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"Hermione?"

Harry's voice pulled Hermione from her musing over the essay that Snape had set them and noted that he was looking at her with trepidation.

"What's wrong?" She replied, setting the overly long essay down on the table and turning to face him properly.

"I wanted to apologize. For that whole Felix thing. I feel really bad for using you to boost Ron's confidence. You deserve better than that."

He turned away from her as he finished speaking and Hermione was heartbroken at how closely he currently resembled a kicked puppy.

"Harry," she called softly, drawing his eye again, "it's alright. Ron is your best friend. I get that he comes first most of the time and that you feel the need to side with him."

"That's not it!" He responded, looking shocked. "You're my best friend too, Hermione. You both come first."

"That isn't how best friends work, Harry, you can't have…"

Hermione broke off at the ruckus that sounded with the opening of the portrait hole and two linked bodies tumbling through. Anger spiked through her as she watched Ron stumbling into the very public common room, filled with students as it usually was in the early evening, attached at the mouth to Lavender Brown. Hardly the image a prefect should set for the younger students, to begin with. It especially galled her given he had agreed to go to Slughorn's party with her only a few days earlier and now was fiercely snogging Lav-Lav instead.

She felt Harry's hand gently take her own and give it a light squeeze as she struggled to keep the bile from rising in her throat at the spectacle Ron was making of himself. She sighed heavily before glancing at her hand and giving Harry a forced smile in thanks for his support.

"I'm going for a walk." She announced, separating from her friend and heading for the portrait now the snog show had moved deeper into the room, something she really didn't want to see any more of.

"Want me to come with you?" Harry inquired, looking at her oddly.

Hermione shook her head and swept out of the common room before the Fat Lady could even close from Ron's showy entrance. Her feet carried her as they would, given her mind was too busy whirling over the injustice of it all. She'd finally decided this year to let Ron act on the obvious looks he had been giving her. He was the only one she'd ever noticed looking at her like she wasn't just a bushy-haired bookworm, but that he might actually want her as a female instead.

While it had taken him until the Yule Ball in their fourth year to notice her as such, ever since she had noted him looking at her in that way more and more often. At first, she was upset with him for it as she believed it was only residual jealousy that she had attended the Ball with Viktor instead of him, but it persisted long after even Ron would hold a grudge over such a thing.

She began to enjoy his attention, as remote as it was, finally feeling special enough that someone was taking notice. She had let him watch from afar during the prior year, not willing to try anything risky under the watchful eye of the Umbitch, but had enjoyed the feeling nonetheless.

And yet, this year, when she had finally given him the chance to act on his obvious attentions, he had accepted her invitation and almost immediately spat on it by latching onto her roommate's mouth and barely letting go. She sometimes wondered if they were not connected by the tongue now and physically unable to separate.

While she didn't dislike Lavender until now their interaction had been joyfully light. The other girl was interested in none of the things that Hermione enjoyed, but since she and Ron had begun smooching at every opportunity, all she wanted to discuss was her Won-Won. The very thought of the appalling nickname made her sick.

She was momentarily distracted from the frustration and anger as they were suddenly overpowered by a deep ache in her calf as she stepped off yet another set of stairs. Looking around, she realized she had no real idea where her legs had carried her in her frustration and that her legs were rebelling from the stomping manner in which she had been traversing the castle. With a frown, Hermione ducked into the nearest classroom and sequestered herself on the first wide desk she came too, settling on its dusty top.

As soon as her complaining legs were off the floor, her mind fell back into the over-analysis of Ron's behaviour. Surely she wasn't imagining things. He had clearly been interested in her for a long while now and he'd seemed very pleased when she had asked him to accompany her to the Christmas party. And yet, one mild disagreement and he was all over Lavender. Even the implied rejection of it, as he had not rescinded his acceptance of her invitation, ate at her. That the only boy she had noted seemed in any way interested in her would drop her at the first opportunity to make out with someone else.

She was not a prude. Hermione would have most likely kissed him after the party. She'd need to test the waters and see how compatible they were and what, if anything, might come of their pairing. But even then he couldn't wait. Was she truly that unappealing that he would always be looking to the horizon for the next best thing?

Hermione settled back on her hands, letting them rest on the back edge of the desk and cast her eyes over the classroom seeking something to aid her internal woes and yet found herself, instead, looking at her own face.

The reflection of her own face to be precise, as magic could often lead to other ways to meet one's own visage in person. A large ornate mirror was sitting directly in front of the desk upon which she sat and she had either completely missed its presence when she sat here or that she missed someone hauling it in and setting it down in front of her. She was fairly certain the former was the most likely.

Even more surprising was the fact that even though she could turn her head and clearly see she was sitting in the centre of the wide desk alone, in the reflection Harry and Ron were sat on either side of her.

Harry was his usual messy-haired self, looking at her with that same gentle smile he always had. Occasionally his hand would rest on her own and give it a squeeze, or settle for a moment on her shoulder, drawing the attention of her mirrored counterpart. His presence was as soothing as ever and she found herself basking in the soft attention he showered upon her.

Ron on her other side was looking at her in a much more appealing manner. His eyes would occasionally run over her figure, which even her self-conscious mind had to admit had developed quite nicely over the past few years. He'd even occasionally lick his lips at the sight and Hermione found herself blushing at the attention. Ron even momentarily glance off to the side of the mirror as though looking at her for too long was too much for him to take. The idea swelled her pride but further pressed home the fact that even when he looked at her like that, he still went off and snogged another girl.

That was when she realized where she had seen that same look on Ron's face before. And her heart sank in response. Ron looked at most girls like that, and she had been so caught up in the fact that someone had directed a lustful gaze in her direction, that she had missed that fact until right now. She'd seen him look at Lavender like that a lot recently, and Parvati even before that. In fact, the only girls she could recall him not looking at in that fashion were Ginny, Luna and any girl wearing a Slytherin uniform.

Ron was a letch.

Once that thought settled in her mind, a pair of female arms stretched into the left of frame and Ron leapt off the desk and disappeared into them and out of the mirror. Despair took hold now as she sank into herself. The desire she had thought had been unique was just a part of who Ron was, and she was the closest girl. Of course, he had looked at her like that.

Her mind spent ages reanalysing every interaction he'd had with her and the other girls in the school and each one sent her heart sinking lower. How could she have missed something so obvious? The truth was that she hadn't missed it, she had ignored it for the fantasy her mind concocted instead. A false world where one of her closest friends might actually care for her in a true and lasting fashion. Instead, she had climbed atop a tower of empty cardboard boxes of imagination and now was sailing inevitably towards the hard ground when they had collapsed out from under her.

She stared into the mirror that had highlighted her misjudgement, hating it for the truth it had revealed to her. Yet her reflection continued to look happy and cheerful in spite of the heartache she now suffered through, only accompanied by Harry in her despair.

"Hermione?"

She shrieked and jumped as the sound of Harry's voice met her ears and his gentle hand closed around her own before being yanked free by her movement. Her eyes whipped to the side to see him sitting beside her on the desk, his Cloak gathered up on his lap and the pale worn parchment peeking out from under it.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He gave her that same gentle smile as she flexed her slightly numb fingers a bit.

"It's ok." She mumbled in return before clearing her throat. "How long have you been there?"

He shrugged as he glanced back at the mirror, his smiling widening as he did so. "Not long, a few minutes I think. You looked like you were miles away, but I assumed you saw me in the reflection. Didn't realize what it was at first."

Hermione nodded. "I told you I didn't want any company though."

Now that she had come to terms with her newest failure, she did not want to wallow in it with Harry nearby. He would figure out something was wrong and make her talk about it and the embarrassment of her realization was far too fresh for that.

"I know. But once one am rolled around and you still hadn't returned to the common room I got worried. So I grabbed the Map," he tapped the worn parchment, "and tracked you down. Sorry I interrupted but it can be addictive."

"Addictive?" She muttered absentmindedly, not even reacting to the fact she had been sitting here dwelling for hours.

"Oh, that's right. You never actually saw it. You were with your parents over Christmas and never made it into the last chamber." Harry leaned back and tapped his chin as he spoke.

Hermione gave him a puzzled look and he pointed to the top of the frame.

"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. What?"

Harry chuckled at the look on her face and pointed at the reflection in the mirror once more. Hermione looked between the words and the glass a few more times before the answer came to her.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire? This is the Mirror of Erised?"

Harry nodded as he shuffled a little closer to her now that her shock had sent her closer to the edge of the desk.

"It can be very distracting," he replied, checking his watch. "Turns out I'd been sitting here with you nearly an hour."

He showed her the time on his watch and she gasped. It was nearly three am.

Hermione focused once more on herself and Harry reflected back at her in the mirror, still shown sitting exactly as they were on the desk. Even the Map and Cloak were sitting on his lap, though they looked to be slipping further down and would soon end up on the floor. Knowing what the artefact now was, she became even more frustrated given it didn't seem to be working for her.

She narrowed her eyes at the ancient mirror and growled softly. "What do you see?"

Harry turned to look at her again, the same smile as ever on his face as his eyes flicked over her own before he returned his gaze to the mirror. His smile grew even wider as he took in whatever reflection he was seeing and he shuffled closer again and slipped his hand back into her own. He once more turned away from the mirror, looking into her eyes and for a moment Hermione felt her heart skipping as she found herself lost in the almost liquid nature his eyes had taken on.

He gave her hand another light squeeze and whispered a single word. "You."

Hermione's heart froze at the word, before hammering rapidly within her chest. She tore her eyes from his own and looked back into the mirror armed with this new piece of information. She looked at the reflected Harry and noted it had the same look he had just given her. The same simple smile that he always wore taking on a new light with one simple piece of new information. His eyes glowed with pride as he watched her sort through her revelation.

The mirror is working perfectly. Otherwise, she would have never seen Ron there when he hadn't been present. And yet throughout the entire time she had been fretting and thinking about things with Ron, Harry had been happily sat next to her, just watching. Trusting her to get the point eventually. The Mirror of Erised showed your hearts truest desire and hers had been sitting next to her for years.

She snuck a guilty glance at the boy beside her and found him happily staring into the mirror, but he didn't seem to be lost in the image, merely basking in the reflection.

Holy crap! I'm in love with Harry freaking Potter!

Hermione began to hyperventilate as the truth settled over her. She'd always been in love with him, she just never let herself realize it. She was too busy being bossy about their homework or helping with their crazed adventures. Too busy noticing the obvious looks Ron had been giving her that she'd never given a second thought to the same soft caring smile that always decorated Harry's face when he looked at her.

Not with naked desire as Ron had, but with love and care.

She turned back to face him once more, noting he was again gazing at her with that look that set a fire inside of her that she had never noticed before. He leaned forward and her breath caught in her throat as he approached. Her eyes fluttered closed and her hand tightened on his own. With a shock of pure joy throughout her entire body, she felt his lips press ever so slightly against her own and her body moved to heighten the pressure between them.

Sensations and feelings Hermione had never noticed before rocketed throughout her body, and yet they were all secondary to the sense of his lips against her own. His magnificent scent filling her nostrils. A scent she had been unable to place when she recalled the Amortentia in their first potions class of the year. It was the softest and most perfect first kiss in the history of this world, and it was hers.

A nearly inaudible groan left her throat as she felt him pull away, and her body followed him, seeking greater contact. She pushed up close until there was no space between their bodies, hip to shoulder, they were pressed together. Hermione's heart was pounding in her chest and yet her mind was frighteningly quiet, a state it didn't often find itself.

She let out a soft sigh of contentment as Harry's arm swept up her back and pulled her even tighter against him. The pair of them now lost in the presence of the other and watching happily as the Mirror of Erised reflected their every movement exactly.

"Dumbledore told me that the Mirror only shows the deepest most desperate desire of your heart. But if the happiest man on Earth were to look into it, he would see only himself, exactly as he is. I think I finally understand what he meant by that."

Hermione let out a light laugh at his comment. "Yeah, me too."

"To be truly honest, I do still see my family behind us. But you're there too. And I'm guessing that the pair standing next to mum and dad are your parents. I've never really gotten a proper look at them before."

Hermione smiled even brighter at his description. That she mattered as much to Harry as his parents whom he had never known meant the world to her. She rested her head on his shoulder and the pair allowed the magic of the mirror to show them what they wanted most. Realizing that while the mirror might be an illusion, the person they were snuggled so tightly against was very real, and so were their feelings for said person.

"Hermione?" Harry whispered, earning a positive hum in response, "I get if you still want to go with Ron, but would you like to accompany me to Slughorn's party?"

Hermione turned her head to look up at the boy she finally admitted to herself she was crazy in love with. Leaning up, she applied a second delicate peck to his lips before pulling back, a charge of energy and excitement filling her at the contact. "I'd love to go with you, Harry."

The grin he gave her in return could have lit the room, had she been paying attention to anything other than him.

It was many hours later that the pair found themselves safely ensconced beneath the Cloak as they slowly shuffled their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry stood behind Hermione with his arms wrapped about her waist. Both relishing the contact even as it made their progress ridiculously slow while Hermione navigated them around the still patrolling teachers via the Map.

She giggled softly to herself as she considered that in his own way, Ron had been responsible for her and Harry finally realizing and acting upon the feelings they had both clearly held for the other for years. And for the first time in hours, she found herself thankful for her redheaded friend.


	2. Be Careful What You Put In Your Body

I had this idea a long time ago but never found the right story to add it to. So, for now, I'm posting it here.

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Lord Voldemort felt truly powerful once more. His old wand once more gripped in delicate fingers. His 'loyal' followers cowering at his feet, unknowingly prostrating their pure-blooded bodies before his own muggle besmirched form. The dull pain throbbing throughout his veins...

He paused at this last feeling. It was certainly not one he was familiar with. He stretched his limbs, pretending he was removing any final kinks from his resurrection as he turned to view the boy. The boy who was now slowly standing after the Rat released his bonds. His own meagre wand in hand, the blood from his still-open wound dripping from its tip.

But it was not the blood that held his attention. It was the cold smile on the boy's face.

"You're dead, Tom Riddle."

He cringed internally at the infernal name. None but the Rat had been privy to the knowledge of his true parentage before tonight, but now the brat was taunting him with it in front of his followers. The thought was brushed aside as shards of white-hot agony burst all over his body. He'd never felt any pain quite like it before.

"And I'm going to stand here and watch you die, Tom. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Voldemort felt weak. Weak in a way he'd not felt since that Halloween, and never once before that night. And it terrified him. Had something gone wrong with the ritual? He'd checked everything, and even the incompetent Pettigrew had performed the steps as instructed. He knew all too well the price of failure here tonight. The graveyard about him seemed to be spinning and he was having trouble remaining standing, much less keeping his agony from showing before his lessers.

"So ends the famous Lord Voldemort." The boy's voice was becoming distant now, harder to focus on through the pain. "Alone, though his sycophants stand beside him. Forsaken by all who might have loved him. Defeated by the child he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Muggle father soon, Tom."

Tom was utterly afraid. The boy seemed to be reciting from some unknown encounter. The words did seem to be his own. With a surging effort, he locked eyes on the child and forced his way inside. And nearly fell on his arse in shock.

Inside the boy's mind was his own face. The one he had worn decades ago when he was a fresh-faced Head Boy at Hogwarts. And the words were indeed his own. Words he had spoken at the child as he huddled, dying on the floor of his noble ancestor's masterful secret Chamber. Dying of the basilisk venom flooding his veins causing…

The very same agony that now coursed through his entire body. The venom that had not been cleaned from the boy's system, only healed in its progress every moment of the day by the phoenix tears also sharing his veins. But it was clear to him now that none of those tears had been in the blood the Rat had dripped into the cauldron.

He had taken Harry Potter's protection and with it his deadly secret.

Voldemort fell to his knees, wand dropping from his loosened grip as reality reasserted itself around him. He, the greatest sorcerer in history, was going to die here. At the foot of the grave of his filthy muggle ancestors. Killed by the child of prophecy. By accident. By fluke. By Lucius…

A surge of anger returned some of his strength to his body and he whirled on the Death Eaters mulling worriedly behind him. Pale yew flashed green as he unleashed his wrath.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he yelled, ending the Malfoy patriarch with a green flash and driving fear into the eyes of his followers he would normally relish in.

Yet tonight it felt hollow. The arrogant fool. He had given him the diary to protect. To keep safe. And in his long absence, the idiot had used his soul container to better his own station. To settle petty scores with unimportant blood traitors instead of just killing them for their actions. And now he would cost Lord Voldemort everything.

"You bought yourself thirteen years of borrowed time. But Death got you in the end, as you knew he must."

Potter was closer now, standing right behind him as he panted in agony on the muddied ground. His Death Eaters began to fall as well, each clutching at their arms as they fell, sharing his pain as he drew on them through the Mark. Using them to sustain his life as he tried to use his prodigious magical skill to burn off the venom that pervaded his every cell.

He clenched his jaw and eyes tightly against the pain as he sought his once more fallen wand on the ground before he heard soft footsteps to his left and a resounding crack rent the air of the night.

His eyes flew wide as he tracked the sound and they locked on a sight that left him in despair. His loyal wand, which had been with him all these years, had helped to cleanse this disgusting world of such filth, now lay broken in two. Crushed under the heel of his greatest foe.

"Oops."

Tom glared at the boy as best he could. Trying in his weakness to summon something, anything with which he could hurt the child. But even with the collective strength he was pulling from his many followers, he couldn't have lifted a feather at that moment. And his heart went cold as he heard a horrid whisper.

"_Master… help me…"_

Had it been any of his followers, he would not have cared. But he could tell by the smile on Potter's face where the voice had come from. The memory had shown him the truth. The boy had stolen his family's noble talent that night and had heard his loyal familiar just as clearly as he had.

Sweeping his eyes to the right, he saw her there, twitching in agony. And he could feel the energy leaving her body. His soul was doing everything it could to prolong its time in this world, drawing first on the lives and magic of his willing followers. But when that failed, it had sought a more familiar form of magic. He was draining the containers.

His furious yet impotent gaze returned to the boy and he noted the scar he had gifted him was bleeding, but already seemed diminished from earlier. Realization speared him as he realized he had marked the boy with his soul. Inadvertently making him an additional container. So long as the boy had lived, he could not have died, until he was fool enough to use his blood. Already tainted by his Mudblood mother, and now by the venom as well.

"You…"

"It's your own fault really. You shouldn't leave your diary lying around. You never know who might find it."

Tom wanted to hurt the boy. Destroy him. Rip him apart with his bare hands if need be. But he could not move. His body would not obey his commands. He noted that the night air had once more become silent, but for his own pitied whimpering. The others lay dead, looks of fear etched forever on their faces as he drained them dry.

"I…" Tom mumbled, barely able to muster the energy to open his mouth. "I'm…"

Harry grabbed him by the robe and pulled him upright, bringing him level to the boy's dirty exhausted face.

"Just die, Tom."

And with a shove, he fell until his head collided with the broken concrete footing of his father's grave. Every fibre of his body was screaming in agony, but he lacked the energy to as much as whimper. He had lost it all to vanity and happenstance. To the luck of a child who by rights should be dead many times over.

"I…"

He felt his body surrendering to the inevitable. All his effort. All his planning. The pain of sundering his soul again and again. Was all for naught. And his last sight in this life was the smiling face of one Harry James Potter.

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord…


	3. Hermione and her boys

_Beta'd by the wonderful AlexandraO (id: 9282786) and Q Elwyn D (id: 12022304). Please go read some of their amazing works._

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Hermione sighed heavily. She loved her work. She was changing the world bit by bit, despite the efforts of the bigots and traditionalists. But it could be exhausting sometimes. There were few things in this world more rewarding than seeing her efforts come to fruition. But after a long week of negotiations and arguments, and just plain thick-headed stubborn jackasses, there was nothing she liked more than returning home to her boys and some comfy house clothes.

She wasted no time in zipping to her bedroom and tossing the professional, yet constricting attire she had to wear at the Ministry into the hamper and settling into the freshly laundered tracksuit pants and jumper laid out at the end of her bed. She wasn't sure what her favourite part was. The comfy clothes, or the fact that every Friday afternoon they would be laying there, freshly washed and dried, folded just right, waiting for her. It made her heart swell to know he went out of his way to have them ready for her.

In fact, all that was missing were his firm arms wrapping her up from behind and pulling her into a warm and love-filled hug. Hermione cocked her head slightly as she listened to the house. It sounded as normal, yet there was no obvious trail to follow to find her boys. The house was oddly quiet as she stepped out into the hall. Her first port of call was the little one's bedroom, it wouldn't be the first time they'd been found napping on the little bed when she returned home. But the sheets covered in Care Bears were empty and Hermione frowned again.

She crossed the hall and entered the library. A demand she had insisted on, placing their young one opposite. She had stated that access to books would help him learn and grow. The only response she had received was a warm hug and a knowing smile. The next day the room was ready, and she spent that night tucking their little man into the covers.

And yet, the library too was empty. There was the usual handful of books that hadn't been returned to the shelves left on tables or chairs. Even a few empty glasses, indicating that even Winky was off somewhere for the evening. But that lead to thoughts of poor departed Kreacher. She'd really missed the aged elf since the war and his heroic final charge. She shook her head, her brow furrowed again as she considered the far too large building, they called home. While it wasn't overly wide, it was quite tall. And filled with far too many rooms, most of which stood unused day after day.

Hermione spun on her heel and headed for the stairs. Perhaps they had retreated down, and she'd been so preoccupied that she'd passed them on her way in. She quickly descended the dark stairs; thankful the old decorations were no longer there as she burst into the kitchen and frowned again. Not only empty of people, but there were used dishes sitting on the large table in the middle of the room.

"I sure hope he doesn't think I'm cleaning this mess up." She grumbled to herself as she stepped through the empty kitchen and headed for the basement stairs.

The spiralled stairway swirled around as she stepped lightly out onto the dimly lit concrete floor. Many times, she'd returned home to find him practising spells down here. Apparently, there were runes built into the very foundations that made this the best place in the house to cast without risk of damaging the structure itself. Not that she'd been able to inspect them, obstructed as they were by the very form of the house. And yet, today it was empty but for the busted-up dolls and mannequins, he liked to 'borrow' from landfills or hard waste left on the street on his walks.

Frustration was beginning to surge in Hermione as she was becoming acutely aware of just how big, and just how empty her home was. And she didn't like the idea very much. He never went out on a Friday afternoon. The one time he had, there had been notes left in damn near every room. But today, nothing.

She took the stairs back up at a run, made difficult by the tight spiral of the staircase and without a second glance, shot through the dirty kitchen. Given only the main entry, which bordered the open and empty drawing-room she had hung her outer robes in upon arriving in its large floo, and the kitchen were on the ground floor, she took off back to the main stairs, striding upwards two at a time.

As she arrived on the first-floor landing, she looked up the narrow hallway. Four big rooms filled this floor and most of them were unlikely, but she was becoming distressed at their absence so she would check them all to be sure.

First was to the right, the dining room they never used as they preferred to eat in the kitchen with Winky. She had protested for weeks saying it wasn't proper for masters to eat with the elves, but he would not be deterred. He'd even convinced the elf to join them for their meals instead of keeping her portion aside for eating once her tasks were done. The memory spurred a little happiness back into her soul but the room before her wasn't any less empty now because of it. She quickly strode to the next one down the line, the living room.

He'd spent a fortune overhauling this room, making sure it had all the accoutrements she might miss from true muggle living. It also helped to smooth things over with her folks after Australia when they could sit down to an episode of Robot Wars and hash it all out. The smile that memory brought was bigger than any other so far that evening. Hermione was pretty sure that those hours bonding by the telly watching amateur robots get trashed helped her dad bond with him more than anything she could have suggested.

"Boys!" she huffed, turning from yet another unoccupied room.

Across the hall was the ever-empty sitting room as they would always do their sitting in the library or living room. Hermione felt a grin tugging at her lips as she recalled both of her boys and her father asking why any house needed a living, sitting and family room, and what the difference between them was. Even she was baffled by their all being squeezed onto a single floor of the tall townhouse. Only a quick glance was spared to this one as it sat still unused as the day he'd finished the renovations on it. Traipsing back down the hallway, Hermione found herself smiling at the memories they had made in the past few years in this room, the family room.

It was where the tree would be placed during the Christmas holidays, the three stockings hung over the much smaller fireplace than was found in any of the much bigger rooms. She loved the family room because being in there meant they were doing something special. Be it a holiday, birthday, or some other celebration only held between themselves. The living room or drawing room tended to host the bigger gathering's or the large dining room once more behind her when the full family gathered. The only other room big enough to hold their extended family was the library, and no one was foolish enough to suggest a rowdy gathering take place in that room in front of her.

But once again, her temporary smile drawn from fond memories disappeared when she noted that there were no humans tucked in here either. A growl of frustration, fuelled both by the day she'd had at work, and the inadvertent game of hide and seek she was being subjected to sent her agitation ever higher.

Hermione stomped noisily up the stairs, bypassing their bedroom floor and heading up another two flights to the full floor taken up by the attic. This was the one room in the house that she allowed him to indulge in his desire for a bit of chaos. Most of the remainder of the house was neat and tidy, organized as she preferred. Not that he wanted to be messy. Of their friends and family, he was probably the neatest after herself.

But boxes and trunks of varying sizes and shapes spread over the entire floor. Some low and stacked upon one another, others almost reaching the roof. Ones she was certain would never have made it inside if not for magic, and others so small and delicate that they were kept out of reach of small young hands until they were old enough to understand breakable is bad. Here was the only sign of someone living having been through in hours, a gathering of supplies for painting and crafting spread over several of the small boxes near the entrance. But all the supplies had been sealed and while not put away, were clearly not currently being used.

Hermione stepped inside and gave the floor a once over regardless. Now frustrated beyond belief at the wild wizard chase she found herself a very unwilling participant of. Unable to resist in her agitated state, she found herself neatening up the supplies and nearby boxes before she gave up on finding them in the attic and descended once more to the two floors of bedrooms and bathrooms reserved for guests. These did not take long to clear, as she glanced quickly into each room one after the other before returning to the master bedroom. She'd gone from top to bottom and back again, and there was no sign of her boys.

Standing by her bed, Hermione huffed as she wondered where the pair could be hiding. And in her forced silence, she finally heard it. The light, yet throaty breathing coming from the bed. She turned in confusion and looked at the covers. And noticed a curve in the surface she hadn't seen before. Realization dawned as she figured out what had happened and kicked herself mentally for her idiocy. She drew her wand and silently, and carefully, lifted the ancient cloak off her boys. There lay Harry, head lolled back on the pillows, with Teddy stretched out on his chest, causing Harry's position which led to the noisier than normal breathing.

Her heart swelled as she saw them laid out there together. Her boys. The truest loves of her life. Ever since he'd taken in Teddy full time, Harry had been the most perfect father. He had foregone the option of working to instead stay home and be the father he had longed for as a child. And while he still made sure to give Teddy his space, the boy loved him to the ends of the earth for it.

As Hermione drew closer, she noted something clutched in Teddy's little fist. Something fabric that went down beside and then under Harry's back. Trying not to wake either of the boys, she gently peeled the fabric out from under Harry. When she unfurled it, her breath caught. It was clearly what they had been working on in the attic, something the boys must have spent hours working on together. Something that reminded her of the biggest factor she had forgotten about today.

_Happy . . Birthday, Mumione_

Her smile grew even wider as she looked at the homemade shirt. The silvery otter swirling on the front, weaving between the letters almost made her giggle. Swinging the shirt about, she noted the wolf, grim and stag gathered on the back, all in the same silvery colouring as the otter from the front. They stood proudly beneath the text proclaiming her the World's Greatest Mum. As she twirled the shirt back to the front, the letters flickered for a moment, now showing:

_Happy Unbirthday, Mumione_

Hermione couldn't stifle the gentle chuckle in her chest at the reference to Harry's favourite book. She glanced back up and her eyes met Harry's now open ones, happy tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. This was exactly what she'd needed after that day at work.

Being careful not to wake the boy clutched in his firm hold, Harry curled one finger in a come-hither motion, and Hermione delicately climbed onto the covers, still holding her gift as she snuggled into the pair, Harry whispered in her ear, "Happy birthday my love," as his arm settled around her back and filled her with warmth.

A soft kiss to her forehead and the three soon fell back to sleep, never happier than they were right at that moment.


	4. You Idiots

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JKR and Warner Bros. A/N: Winner of the Harmony Co Birthday Drabble Challenge. Thank you to Untold Harmony for inspiring the idea with her own great entry and the awesome admins for choosing it._

_Title: You Idiots ~ Word Count: 879_

* * *

"Ron."

The redhead looked up at the crowd assembled in the Three Broomsticks for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the resumed eighth year and immediately his expression became suspicious.

"What do you two want?" He asked, as his older brothers sat either side of him.

"We need you help." Ron looked at George in stunned disbelief.

"My help? With what?"

"Look," Fred started, "the pot is huge and, well, we might have over spent some of it by accident perfecting some of our latest gags."

"So we need you to help us win the pot so that no one notices." George finished.

Ron was staring back and forth between the twins looking confused.

"What pot?"

"Don't be so dense little brother. They need to get together this weekend."

"If they make it to graduation, we're sunk."

"WHO?" Ron growled, getting angry now at his brothers dodging his question.

Fred shook his head and George gave him a look as though Ron was the dumbest man alive. "Your best friends, you idiot!"

Ron stared between the two for a moment before surprising everyone in the pub by throwing his head back and roaring with laughter. Fred and George Looked at their brother with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"I think he's finally snapped, George."

"Indeed, Fred."

"I haven't snapped," Ron replied as his hearty laughter settled, "let me get this straight. You two have had a bet going on when Harry and Hermione would get together? Since when exactly?"

The twins glanced at each other for a moment, noticing several of the other patrons were beginning to listen in. "Keep it down, Ron. The pot started back in fourth year after Hermione stuck with him when his name came out of the Goblet."

Ron's laughter resumed and both the twins were now starting to take on the typical Weasley red on their faces. More and more of the patrons were watching and listening now.

"You idiots." Ron mused as his laughter settled once more.

"Look, we get you might be upset, but if they don't hook up this weekend, we're in a lot of trouble. If you help we'll give you a discount off everything in the shop." Fred begged.

"Out of curiosity, how much is this pot?"

"374,581 Galleons." George whispered.

"You idiots!" Ron repeated in a much more sombre tone. "And by chance did anyone happen to place a bet on the two already being together at the time you started this whole thing?"

Fred looked at him with an odd expression. "Well… um, yeah. The Lovegood girl did. We tried to explain the futility of her logic, but she was adamant. Put the whole _Quibbler_ down as her bet too. It's how the pot is so big."

"You idiots. Luna won."

The Three Broomsticks did something that no one had ever seen before on a Hogsmeade weekend. It became utterly silent. "What?" Seamus' voice came from the far corner.

"Luna won." Ron shrugged, taking a swig of his butterbeer.

"That's not possible." Lavender shrilled. "We'd have noticed!"

"Really?" Ron replied, "you all know Harry. How much does he like being in the limelight?"

"He hates it," Dean offered from right behind Ron.

"Exactly. So why in hell would he parade himself around in front of you all with his girlfriend?"

"But…" Fred mumbled.

"Krum!" Parvati yelled. "If they were already dating, why'd she go to the Yule Ball with Krum."

Ron looked at the Indian girl and saw the real question on her face. She was wondering why Harry had asked her to the Ball when he already had a girlfriend. "Because he asked. She was the only girl in the whole school not fawning over him. Hermione talked it over with Harry. He didn't mind. It was just dancing. And the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't exactly going to have much trouble finding a dance partner."

Parvati looked dejected and Ron felt a little bad for ruining her misguided idea of the ball.

"I don't believe it. How could we not notice?" George asked.

"Coz you're bloody thick." Ginny stated from her seat beside Dean.

"How long?" A random voice in the crowd shouted.

"I can't recall the exact day, but Hermione asked Harry to be her boyfriend near the end of third year. Just after the Dementors left."

Fred banged his head against the table and George groaned aloud, his head in his hands. "Ruined."

"She even called that. Everyone else was sure Harry would ask her." Fred moaned.

"Looks like you boys have a new boss." Ron chuckled, quaffing the last of his drink. "A boss I'm going to be late for my date with. Thanks boys."

Ron patted the backs of the dejected twins and walked to the exit of the pub.

"WAIT!" Lavender yelled. "If they're dating, where the hell are they today?"

Ron turned, noting every face in the building was looking at him. He shook his head at their denseness. "On a date of course. As head boy and girl they can actually go anywhere they wanted. I think it was somewhere in Italy for Hermione's birthday lunch. Bye."

A with a will, Ron stepped from the Three Broomsticks to find a lithe blonde girl standing there waiting for him. "Hello, Ronald."

"Good afternoon, Luna. Shall we?"


	5. Broken Heart - Shattered Soul

A/N: An entry to an HPFF Forum friend's challenge to write about a broken heart. Refused to do your typical break-up style story to fit the subject. It felt good to write this and was an interesting frolic through a demented mind.

Characters: Tom Riddle Jr (Voldemort)

* * *

Pain. I had never expected pain.

Fear though; so much fear have I felt in the past few years.

I was once invincible, untouchable. You only had to whisper my name and people would run in fear. And yet now, I am the one who is fearful. Of death; that final path we all must walk, even I who spent so much of my life trying to escape it. But to no avail. And now, here, in the moment of my death, I see where I went wrong. But also, where I might have been saved.

All those years ago, born to this world in a dirty little orphanage. My mother so heartbroken that it killed her. Strength enough in her bones but to name me. I never understood. I thought her weak; powerless, to let something as mundane as love take her life. I was stronger than that. Love had no hold on me, would not take me as it took her. Little did I know the damage that simple decision would have. It practically doomed me to this. Dumbledore warned me, all those years, to find some remorse. Even taught that child to taunt me about it too. No, not taunt. Harry Potter had been many things throughout the years, but cruel was never one of them. It had been love once more that he advised.

Such a simple thing for all the world. No one truly knows what it means, but they all yearn for it. But I never felt its touch, never felt the warmth of another's loving embrace. I cut myself off from it all those years ago, not knowing what I was doing to myself. I thought strength lay in power. Loneliness was to be courted not avoided. And now I get to reap the rewards of my mistakes. So many times, I see now I could have turned from this path, but I had never known love. It had never worked its way into my cold heart.

And there it is, heart. That shining symbol of courage, bravery, good. The backbone of your soul so to speak. Yet mine never worked like that, not even as a lonely child cooped up in an orphanage. Locked away with those disgusting Muggles, even then I hated them. Hated them for not understanding, for not caring. Though I'd never allowed myself to truly realise it; it was there that my course had been set. For had I had the care of a family, the love, perhaps things may have been different.

All throughout my formative years, I was never loved and never loved anyone. And this vacuum warped me in ways that I could have recovered from. Could have, had I not chosen to shatter my soul. And the heart so inextricably linked to it. The heart that for so long had simply sat in my chest, always beating onwards to this moment. I wonder now, were its beats numbered. Was this always how it had to end? Or had Dumbledore been right all those years? Had remorse truly been the key to saving me? But how could I show remorse? I had never known its touch. Only hate, only anger, only power. And that final initial act ripped both my heart and soul. And from that moment forth I was trapped in this downward spiral.

I wonder now, in my twilight, had there been someone out there for me. Someone that could have helped heal my mistakes, heal my wounds. Heal my heart. Perhaps had I not spent all those years striving and yearning for power and longevity, perhaps I could have been happy. Been whole. Instead, I ran headlong into oblivion. Driving myself to my death, piece by piece. The diary, the ring, the locket. I felt it even then. I felt it every time as my soul was ripped apart. I relished in it. Thought it was the feeling of power. Every time I felt less human and it thrilled me. The cup, the diadem, and then my first taste of death. That painful night, I remember it so well: the first night I felt fear. But underneath the fear was something else. Something familiar, the tearing of my soul. I didn't realise what it was then.

But now I do, as ever since that night, Potter himself had been keeping me alive. Nurturing a part of my heart and soul. Keeping it not only alive but raising it. I find myself curious, had I found a way to remerge that shard into my mangled form, would I finally have felt the love I'd been missing? The love that had helped develop him into the kind heart he was now. That even at my end had tried to save me, the one who had spent his entire life ripping his world apart. What would that have done to my heart? Would I have felt its warmth, or would my body have rejected it like a foreign organ? Something completely alien to me that would have been fought from the inside.

Perhaps the next world shall be kinder to my poor heart than this one. If I've enough of one for it to be kind to. All people fear death, but few come to it with the same trepidation I do now. For even at the end, I believed myself unstoppable. And now I move into the unknown, truly scared of what I might find there. Or what might find me. I wonder if I shall ever find the truth if Dumbledore had been right and that remorse had the power to save me. Or if it still can, or if I am doomed to remain forever heartbroken.


	6. Neville Vs The Horntail

_Summary: AU | Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived. Not for much longer. I think I'd rather another round with the Killing Curse; at least it would be quick. I'm going to be eaten by that damn dragon out there. Or trampled to death. Or impaled on those blasted spines on its tail. {First Task of 'The BWL Is Over There' TriWizard Tournament}_

* * *

_A/N:__ Written for the Harry Potter Fan Fiction . com Forums 2012 House Cup First Task Challenge_

* * *

My heart was racing; my nerves felt like they were going to snap they were so tightly stretched. Why had Hagrid thought he was doing me a favour? Dragons really. That is completely mental. Four of 'em to boot. The others had been lucky, getting the Fireball, Short-Snout, and the Welsh Green. All still terrifying in their own right, but none of them could hold a candle to the Horntail. Were I sitting out there amongst my friends, that thought might have been funny. But not now. I reckon if I'd looked into Moody's Foe Glass right now I'd have seen the glaring yellow eyes of that Horntail staring right back at me.

I even had to take a Sleeping Draught last night in order finally get to sleep. The others had looked in a similar state, Viktor had trudged back and forth looking as surly as ever. Fleur'd looked like she might vomit if she'd opened her mouth. Cedric looked the best of us all. He seemed to be handling things well as he leant against the tent supports. He'd been first to go, so I hadn't even had a semi-friendly face to wait with. Why couldn't I at least look like that, hide the fact I'm literally terrified to be here.

Snape had been delighted to strip me of fifty points for not paying attention the other day when he was teaching us about the twelve uses of dragon's blood, smirking widely like he does when he thinks he knows something we don't. All I managed to get was that it works as an oven cleaner and spot remover. Or as an additive or something. Apparently, it also works at curing some diseases, making some fine red inks. He'd been particularly delighted to hear I'd not paid attention to its use as a potion strengthener. Like any of this was going to help me with what I was facing now, no wonder I'd tuned it out. I wish I was clueless as to what was out there, the terror of waiting was worse than being unprepared. Though Harry and Hermione had helped me as best they could. I'd learnt more in the last week than in all the years of Defence Against the Dark Arts combined.

Why had my name come from that cup? I'd not even put it in. And I was too young. Merlin only knows how it ended up in there. I felt like I'd swallowed one of those nasty Blast-Ended Skrewts. My throat was so dry it was on fire and my stomach was in knots, I'd never been so nervous in all my life. I can't even keep my mind straight. Hermione had told me I need to focus, to visualise my goal or it'd never happen. And here I am too scared to even think, much less think clearly.

Neville Longbottom, the Boy Who Lived. Not for much longer. I think I'd rather another round with the Killing Curse; at least it would be quick. I'm going to be eaten by that damn dragon out there. Or trampled to death. Or impaled on those blasted spines on its tail. Stop it, Neville, that's not helping. Try to focus. Get your mind back on track. Squeezing my wand in my hand seemed to help. I wasn't going at this completely alone. My wand had always been there. Ollivander had inspected it only a couple of weeks earlier. Mahogany, phoenix feather, 13", inflexible. Good for Defensive spells, if I'd known any, much less any that would work against a dragon. And inflexible, yeah just like me. I am so gonna screw up out there, in front of everyone too.

There was a tiny tap on the back of my head, but I ignored it, trying to clear my mind of all the terrible ways I was about to die. But the tapping wouldn't go away. I turned to see a small origami bird flapping silently behind me. I grabbed it and folded it open.

_Neville,  
Remember, just relax and focus. You can do this. Visualise and focus. Good luck.  
Hermione._

And underneath Harry had scribbled _GO NEVILLE YOU BEAST!_

Easier said than done. They didn't know yet that I'd drawn the worst of the dragons. There was no way I was walking out of that arena. I was doomed. The screams and yells from outside only served to worsen my anxiety. I wished someone had had the foresight to cast a silencing charm on the tent. If only I'd been any good at transfiguration. Then I could just transform myself into a tiny bug and they wouldn't be able to find me when it was my turn.

It sounded like Krum was nearing his goal. I'd be called up in moments. What would happen if I just didn't go out there? Would they disqualify me? Or come looking for me and force me to do it anyway? A binding magical contract, that's what Crouch had said. I'm doomed.

I jumped as I heard the whistle. I was so wound up it sounded like it had gone off right in my ear. I guess this was it. My last moments on earth. This thought helped a little. If I'm going to go out, I'm going out fighting. I'm a Gryffindor. I've never been particularly brave before, but they're out there watching me. And I'm gonna show them all what we Longbottoms are made of.

The light hurt my eyes as I stepped from the tent. I was in a large rocky arena, big boulders littering its surface with long crags running across it. There were large wooden stands surrounding the area filled to bursting with the students all craning to get their last look at silly old Neville. I felt like my heart was doing its utmost to choke me to death, lodging itself in my throat.

And there was the Horntail, glaring at me from across the arena. Its yellow eyes bored into me as though it was trying to ascertain my plan. The numerous bronze spikes over its body glimmered in the small amount of sunlight that snuck past the clouds above. Come on Neville, you can do this. I could hear the noise of the crowd above me as I took my first step forward, but I couldn't make out the individual sounds, it was like they were miles away. I slipped into the first crack running through the field hoping against hope that it would lead me safely to where I needed to go.

_Clear your mind, focus on the goal._ Great now my subconscious is starting to sound like Hermione. I trudged through the crack turning down the different paths, no idea if I was still facing the right way. I could feel an intense heat in the stone around me and a sudden flash of flame roared over my head. Yep, it's the right way. Clearly, the Horntail could smell me, even if she couldn't see me. I had to be careful here.

I could see the opening that led to behind the dragon, but what if she turned and saw me approach. I took a few deep breaths before heading down the gap. I reached the end and turned to see the spiked tail embed in the stone only a few feet away, where I'd been standing moments before. I waited for her to strike again but all that came was a deafening roar. She was stuck in the stone. She'd hit it with such force it had cracked around the spikes.

Now was my only opening, I had to make the most of it. I used the cracked stone like a ladder and popped my head above the surface. There she was eyes clamped shut screaming as she put every muscle of her body into freeing her tail. _Calm, Neville, visualise._ I lined up my wand hoping she'd stopped squirming just long enough for me to make the shot.

Her eyes opened, and my heart stopped. She was staring directly at me. I was so boned. Time seemed to stretch. It didn't stop, I could see her moving to blast me in the face with her fiery breath, but it slowed considerably. Now was my only chance. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused as best I could. Conjunctivitis curse, please work, blind her.

I felt the spell leave my wand, but I couldn't bear to open my eyes to see if it connected. The stone around me shook violently and I fell roughly to the ground. I glanced up and saw flames spurting all over the place. It was as though the Horntail was lashing out at the sky. My heart swelled as I realised I must have hit home with my spell. Now time for part two.

I rushed to the outer wall and around to the right, hoping she'd be too distracted to worry about me now. I had only moments before her rage gave her the strength to dislodge her tail and then I would be in trouble. I was totally exposed here against the wall, but the plan had worked, I could see her eggs. She was stuck, though admittedly that had been total luck. I had a clear line of sight under her writhing belly. Come on, focus just one more time.

I aimed my wand at the pile of eggs and prayed Hermione had been right and that they hadn't enchanted the eggs so this wouldn't work. _Accio Egg_. I watched as the eggs shuddered in the nest but didn't move. I wasn't focused enough. I could hear screams from all around and was acutely aware of the looming form of the back end of a rather pissed off dragon. I needed to clear my mind, easier said than done in the circumstances. _Come on Neville, visualise and focus, clear your head._ I stood perfectly still and took a few deep breaths before aiming again.

"_Accio Golden Egg!_" I shouted, putting everything I had into the spell.

The egg shook before softly tumbling down the pile and rolling over the edge of the nest. Not quite what I'd been hoping for but it would have to do. I scooped the egg up as it rolled to the wall and charged off as fast as I could run around the outer edge of the arena, tucking it under my arm. I had no idea when the challenge ended but I had no desire to spend any longer in this place. The spell on the Horntail could wear off at any time and the whole field was subject to the range of her flames.

I panted heavily as I saw the tent opening ahead. I could hear the Horntail screaming behind me but I didn't have the courage to look back. I could feel the heat of the flames as she continued to spew flames in every direction. I really hoped the people in the stands wouldn't be hurt. The opening was now only a few feet away. My chest was heaving, my lungs tearing at the air. Please let me make it. As I made it the last metre I jumped through the opening and landed roughly on the hard ground inside.

Something was poking into my back as I lay there panting and clutching at my egg. I rolled to the side to see Filch's Probity-Probe, which he'd frisked them all with as if certain they would try to smuggle something illegal in, smashed on the floor. _I'm never gonna hear the end of that._ I could hear the crowd outside screaming and chanting but I was too tired and my nerves too frazzled to make it out. All I could do was lay there on the floor. A shadow fell over my face as I saw Dumbledore standing over me.

"Well, that was quite a show, Mr Longbottom. Congratulations."

I tried to say thank you, but my lungs wouldn't stop sucking in the air long enough for me to enunciate it, so I settled for smiling back at him. It was over, I'd done it. And I was going to owe Harry and Hermione big time for the rest of my life. But right now, I was content to keep lying here as long as they would let me.

* * *

_A/N:__ Features the following prompts from the Forum House Challenge:  
Features Neville, the Gryffindor Champion  
Features a dragon  
Flourishing in the face of adversity_

Mentions the following prompts:  
The four breeds of dragons involved in the First Task  
The Killing Curse  
A Blast-Ended Skrewt  
A Sleeping Draught  
Mentions a transfiguration spell, uses two summoning charms and a conjunctivitis curse  
Mentions a Foe-Glass and a Probity-Probe  
Mentions the Champion's wand details (as stated for the Challenge not canon)


	7. Students out of Bed

_Summary: Do you solemnly swear that you're up to no good? Then come and join the Coven as they cause a little pre-holiday chaos in the Alteran castle. AU / Next Gen / OC's_

_Written for the Break All The Rules challenge by caomoyl. {Will be merged with Life at the Academy once that story reaches this point}_

* * *

_A/N: This was an entry to a challenge from a friend on the HPFF forums several years ago. It actually takes place with several characters and locations from a story I shall be uploading and updating eventually, but I thought I should upload it now as it is one of my shorter works to date. I hope you enjoy._

_Prompt: Break All The Rules: Fifty Points_

* * *

The bell rang out through the stone-walled corridors, chiming out the late hour. But its sound was not heard in the dormitories. Not at night, but more so this evening for not only were the walls of the dormitories protected against its sound at night but because several of the beds lay empty, awaiting the return of their mischievous occupants.

"Are you sure about this?" Elyssa whispered, her voice echoing in the tight stone corridor.

"Course I am. It'll be fun." Logan replied. "Dobby."

The statue of the diminutive house-elf looked over the group in front of it before winking and sinking into the floor. A small archway was revealed behind it leading into a vast room full of tables and pots, but the most interesting feature was the hammocks lining the walls filled with small creatures snoring softly. The normally busy house-elves were always asleep by midnight which meant they could sneak into the kitchens undetected.

"Come on, we have to be quick," Alex whispered as she pushed past Logan and into the vast room.

The soft snoring was soothing, almost a lullaby, making it very difficult to remain inside without drifting off to sleep. The others quickly followed, all but Xander who waited in the hall outside. That was the key to their success, they always had a backup plan, a way out and a watcher. It was how they managed to get away with all their little pranks, despite the large size of their group.

"Ok, you four go get the flour. We'll grab the sugar." Teddy cooed to the others.

They all nodded and quickly spread out over the kitchens, searching for the bins and bags containing their targets. It was a simple enough prank, switching the flour and the powdered sugar the elves used for their cooking, but it was effective. It wasn't long before they had several dozen bags laid out on the massive tables, waving their wands and mumbling incantations as softly as they could. The labels on the bags shifting and changing as they worked.

"Come on guys, hurry up," Xander called from the doorway as they returned the relabeled bags about the room, stopping for a moment to admire their handiwork. "Now!"

"Alright, keep it down Xander," Jennifer whispered as she passed him heading back to the small stairwell leading back up to the dungeons.

The others quickly followed her back out and Xander tapped the floor of the archway, watching as the small statue once again stood guard over the sleeping elves. He grinned and followed the others back up the stairs. They moved with almost military discipline. One would move up to the next corner, make sure the coast was clear then the group would leapfrog them and they'd then watch behind until the group moved once more. But the entire group came to a standstill as they reached the central stairwell.

This would be the most open of their little excursions tonight. Normally they would avoid the Atrium on their little outings, but as it was now the weekend, they had a special plan for the room they had thus far left untouched. Alex had already placed the supplies earlier in the day, but setting them off would require them all to run to the outside wall of the large room and then back to the stairs to continue upwards.

"Everyone knows their target? We can't mess up on this one." Logan asked as they waited at the base of the stairs. The group looked at each other before nodding agreement. "Alright then, see you on the other side."

And with that he began bounding up the stairs into the Atrium, the others following close on his heels. Jennifer and Xander waited on the first step leading to the first floor, their wands were drawn as the others spread out across the room, heading for the suits of armour lining the round room. Concealed behind them were the small green triangular boxes. The 'supplies' Alex had planted earlier. They placed them about halfway between the walls and the stairs roughly evenly spaced around the entire room.

As each placed their box they raised their wand in the air and looked over to Jennifer on the stairs. She held her hand up all five fingers extended than when they were all watching slowly counted down. When she reached zero nine wands descended on the boxes on the floor, tapping the top point before they all ran as fast as possible for the stairwell. The boxes peeled open just as they reached the stairs and turned to watch the scene unfold.

As the green cardboard peeled back, a foul stench seeped out of the boxes, followed by yellowy green water. The boxes practically exploded unloading their contents all around the circular room, with several light flashes. As the dust and smell settled the room looked completely different. Stretching out from the stairwell was a massive swamp, a particularly large and beautiful Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes Portable Swamp to be exact. There was slime slowly working its way over the banisters and suits of armour, vines and small dead looking trees were sprouting out of the water all over the room, and the whole thing had a sort of sick green glow to it.

The group smiled as Jennifer, Xander and Athena stepped forward and began reciting an incantation they'd been practising for weeks now, and a small fleet of rafts and boats began trekking about the swamp. They'd thought it only fair to make it easy to cross, hoping that the teachers wouldn't clear it up right away.

"Alright great job, but we better move fast, someone will notice that smell soon," Teddy said already bounding off up the stairs.

The others quickly followed glad to be rid of the smell, though some of them had not come out of the experience unscathed, there were splotches of slime on some of their cloaks as the ran. Once on the first floor, they ran one by one from the open main stairwell to a small corridor on the east side, with one of their favourite secret passages. So far their activities had gone off completely as planned, but there was no need to tempt fate by remaining in the open. As the last person ran the open space between the stairs and corridor a startled scream came from ahead and the whole group rushed to see. Jennifer was lying on her back on the floor in front of a flapping tapestry she had clearly been pulling aside only a moment before.

Logan advanced on the tapestry with his wand drawn as Michael and Cole helped Jennifer up and back to the group. Logan whipped the tapestry aside and thrust his wand forward, lighting the tip and illuminating the figure that had scared Jennifer. The chocolate covered irises bored into Logan's face despite the bright wand in her face, her normally pink hair was now black and tied in a ponytail as she grinned widely at him.

"Damn it Isla. You're supposed to be asleep."

"So are you," she chimed stepping from the passage. "So keep quiet and get in, Willy was patrolling down here earlier."

The Coven filed into the secret passage and Logan let the tapestry swing shut behind them. Isla quickly apologised to Jennifer for scaring her and the group moved ever upwards jogging along at a brisk pace. As they reached the top of the hidden stairwell the stopped and grouped together.

"Now, one last stop, then we're done. This is gonna be tough though. Anyone who wants to step out now's your last chance." Logan whispered to the others.

There was clear trepidation on all their faces; they knew what was last for the night, and indeed the year. They were going big as a farewell to the school. But there was every possibility that they would fail. They were planning on messing with the enchantments on the entire castle, from inside the Headmistresses study.

"No one? Good, let's go."

Logan made to open the hidden entrance at the top of the stairs but Teddy grabbed his hand. He pressed his finger to his lips indicating they should be silent, and a moment later they all heard several footsteps heading towards the entrance to their stairwell. Teddy motioned for everyone to take a few steps further down, hoping the turn of the stairs would keep them from view if anyone opened the top. Several muffled voices travelled down to them, sounding as though someone was having a discussion right outside the stairwell. Tension gripped them all as they waited to hope whoever it was would move on soon. They didn't have much time left.

Isla tiptoed around Logan and Teddy careful not to touch either one as a shiver travelled down her spine. No one noticed the little girl disappear and the white wolf took her place. She shuffled in place on her step and then bounded forwards before any of the others could stop her. She shot out of the tapestry covering the stairwell and barked loudly tearing off down the hall, several shouting voices following her.

Now it was Logan's turn to hold Teddy back. "Don't. She's smart, and she knows the castle well. She'll lose them." He whispered, urging the others forwards.

Teddy looked distraught for a moment but followed the others as they slipped out of the tapestry and ran the other way heading for the entrance to the Headmistresses study. The stairwell was already open so they quickly filed up the stairs keeping a careful ear out for the sound of anyone approaching. It was the longest stairwell in the entire school, stretching from the second floor all the way to the top of the tallest tower, but at last, they reached the top. No one spoke as they moved to the Headmistresses desk and Athena, Xander and Jennifer got to work on the enchantments. Even Teddy helped as they others stood guard by the door, praying no one came up those stairs after them. There was only one other way out and that was to levitate one another out the windows.

"Done," Teddy whispered as he moved back past the others by the door and made his way back down the stairs.

They moved back down in single file all hyper-aware of their surroundings, careful not to knock any of the Headmistresses collectibles from their plinths along the walls. When they reached the bottom, Teddy stood there for a moment his eyes shut tightly, listening intently for any approaching footsteps. He waved the others forwards and they quickly split into several groups. Michael rushed off alone heading back to his dormitory in the dungeons while the others split into two groups. Xander, Jennifer and Athena headed for the secret passage to the fourth floor while Logan, Elyssa, Cole, Georgia, Alex and Teddy moved around the outside corridor hoping that Isla had succeeded in losing her tail and would be waiting to let them back into the common room.

As they turned the final corner they saw a soft white tail flicking back and forth from under the table beside the entrance to the common room. As they dashed past it, Teddy tapped the tail twice and the small white wolf dashed into the common room with the others. Silently they all went their separate ways back to their dormitories to sleep, eager to see the result of their activities on the school the next morning.

ϟ

Alex grinned widely as she and the other fifth-year girls were ferried across the Atrium to the Dining hall on a small wooden raft. Clearly, the teachers had chosen to leave it there for the time being. But the students were abuzz with gossip over how it had happened. The rumour was that several Silverclaws had been caught trapped in the swamp by the Groundskeeper earlier that morning, having underestimated the effect of their portable swamps. She had laughed to herself at that, apparently, a few of the Silverclaws had noticed them in the dungeons and hoping to catch them in the act of something followed them to the Atrium where they had been caught in the swamps as they went off.

As she climbed off the boat into the Dining Hall, she could hear the other students whispering and discussing the other remarkable things they'd woken too. Several of the school ghosts were at the far end of the Hall complaining to the Headmistress that they could no longer pass through the walls of the school and that it was most annoying to have to trek along the corridors like normal 'living' people. Also every time someone passed a suit of armour in the halls it would begin singing the song Mmmbop and would not stop until given some form of tribute.

As she sat at the table with the rest of the Coven she could see the barely contained grins on their faces as they ate their bacon and eggs. Apparently, something had gone wrong with the bread and the like and they were not suitable for consumption. The head house elves were also gathered at the Teachers table noisily complaining with the ghosts.

"Enjoying our breakfast are we?" Came a voice from behind the group.

Professors Potter and Granger were standing there eyeing the group closely a suspicious look on Professor Granger's face.

"Very much, Professors, thank you." Alex chimed as she loaded up her fork.

"Any comments on the strange occurrences in the castle this morning?" Professor Granger asked, watching them all closely.

"None at present, Miss," Cole called, through a mouthful of food.

She eyed him carefully for a moment before moving on. Professor Potter waited for a moment before leaning in close to Teddy and Logan. "Most impressive workmanship don't you think." He whispered pointing to the Atrium. "I think I'll give those responsible, let's say 5 points each."

He smiled widely as he walked up the teacher's table. The Coven watched him leave before shifting their eyes to the hourglasses by the front table. 25 points had just been added to Acheron, 20 to Evenstar and 5 to Silverclaw. They just smiled to one another and went about their breakfast, oblivious to the chaos around them.


	8. Stairway to Heaven

Hermione was in shock. Despite listening to the younger girl pine after Harry Potter for years, it was quite the surprise to see her lunge at him and weld their lips together in front of everyone in the common room. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed as she watched and she couldn't take the pain any longer. Hermione turned abruptly on her heel and rushed through the crowd to the stairs to her dorm. She ignored the noise of the party and catcalls at her back as she rushed to be free of both it and the pain.

Taking the steps two at a time, she was nearing safety. Four steps shy of the landing, the steps disappeared from under her feet and with a high pitched squeal, she began to slide down the magically slippery surface they had become.

Hermione slammed her eyes shut tight as she waited for the crash when she'd skittle those gathered partiers at the base of the stairs. Instead, she felt something firm grab her arms and use her momentum to swing her up into the air and catch her tight against a firm panting chest.

Her now free arms closed around the torso she was pressed against and she noticed the sound in the room had diminished considerably.

Opening her eyes, she found a bright green pair staring back at her, burrowing into her very soul and seeing everything she had hoped to hide from them.

A grin spread slowly over Harry's face, starting at the corners of his eyes and lips but soon overtaking his entire face. Hermione bit her lip as she tried in vain to squash the feelings and heat which that smile bloomed within her. Harry leaned forward and her heart skipped a beat as she felt his firm warm lips press against her own and her breath was gone.

Hermione's mind spun as her body registered every sensation swirling about. His firm arms holding her hips against his own. Her legs entwined behind his back helping him keep her in place. Her long fingers wending their way into his messy locks. And most of all, his hot lips pressing harder against her own and blanking her mind.

Harry pulled away long before her senses returned and she felt her chest heaving with heavy breaths, her bosom tight against his own and she blushed as she realized her decision to forgo a bra this afternoon might not have been a good one after all.

"Please don't do that again, Hermione. I choose who I give my heart to, not someone that jumps me in the common room. If you'll have it that is."

She barely registered the movement until it clicked that she was nodding in response, but he caused her breath to catch once more by kissing her a second time. Her mind did not fail her this time as she pressed her body even tighter against him and gave her all to the kiss. Wanting Harry to understand that she not only accepted his heart, she freely returned her own.

Noise broke out around them once more, but Hermione's entire focus was on the man whom she had fallen utterly in love with. Who seemed to return her feelings completely. Only the brushing of another rushing past them broke up this longer and more intense kiss. Hermione looked over Harry's shoulder to see a head of long red hair rushing up the reformed stairs and she felt a little bad for the Weasley girl.

"Shhh, I choose you. That is not your fault." Harry whispered so softly that only she could hear.

He lowered her slowly and her legs came free from around his waist. Though it took a few moments once they returned to the ground for her to regain full control, she was very glad for the reason behind the weakness in her knees.

Smiling at Harry, she entwined their fingers together and was surprised when he pulled her through the common room and out the portrait hole.

"It's too noisy in there, and I had nothing to do with that victory. I'd much rather spend the evening in your company than theirs." Harry offered, quelling the question that must have been showing on her face.

The renewed feeling of joy echoed through her body at his words, further ensuring she believed this wasn't only some horrid dream as she sobbed in her bed.

"Harry?" She asked, pulling the pair to a stop as he turned yet another corner, taking her who knew where. "Why me?"

She regretted asking immediately, afraid she would not like that answer, her bottom lip once more coming under the assault of her fears.

But his replying smile soothed any worries that arose as he stepped up to her, their similar height meaning neither was forced to crane their neck uncomfortably.

"Why would it ever be anyone but you?" Another steaming kiss arose and it wasn't until the pair heard a familiar throat clear behind Harry that they separated once more.

"Certainly I have not found one of my prefects and the quidditch captain kissing in the hallway setting a bad example for the younger students." McGonagall reproached as she stared at the two.

Hermione felt the blush soaring on her cheeks once again as she trembled at what their strict head of house might do to punish such behaviour.

"Never, professor. We were just making our way to avail ourselves of a nice comfortable broom closet."

Hermione's blush doubled at Harry's cheeky response and she turned to stare wide-eyed at her… friend. Still friend for the moment at least.

"My girlfriend and I have not had the pleasure of that Hogwarts rite of passage as yet, and what better night than tonight." Harry finished.

Hermione's heart was racing and she wanted so badly to reprimand Harry for his words, but she dare not move lest her actions bring McGonagall's wrath upon her.

Professor McGonagall shook her head as she stared at the cheeky boy before her, and Hermione could swear she saw the edges of her lips twitch slightly.

"Move along, Mr Potter. Before I am forced to take points for cheek." And with a swirl of her green robes, McGonagall disappeared around the corner, heading in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

Harry looked at her once more, and with a cheeky smirk, began leading her once more through the corridors. This time their journey was much shorter before they were standing before a rather familiar-looking tapestry and Harry let go of her hand for the first time in she knew not how long. It's absence making her heart thud in what she was sure was unnecessary fear as Harry summoned a door in the blank stone wall and he reached out for her hand. She clasped his warm fingers and the swelling fear was soon settled as she followed him into what must be the most extravagant 'broom closet' she had ever seen.

"Harry!" She chided as he settled himself onto the most comfortable looking 'bucket' she'd ever seen and he pulled her sideways onto his lap, the heat building within once more.

"I meant what I said to Professor McGonagall. It's about time another Potter played the Hogwarts Broom Cupboard Challenge, and there is only one girl this Potter plans to try it with."

Hermione's heart hammered away as her arms slithered around his neck, shuffling herself up his lap until she could shift no closer. Her own smile mirroring the bright one on her best friend, nay, boyfriend's face as she leaned in once more and finally completed another of her Hogwarts bucket list.

Make out with Harry in a Hogwarts broom cupboard.

It may be an overly designed mockup made by the Room of Requirement, but it did the job for her purposes tonight.


	9. Half-Blood Puke

Based off the Happy Harmony Homestead Discord Writing Prompt: _In HBP when Hermione learns that the potions book was once owned by a 'Half-Blood Prince', she finds out after just a day of digging around the library. Now she has to break the news to Harry. The trouble is, she remembers the Firebolt incident of third-year._

* * *

Hermione had watched from afar for several hours now, her lower lip beginning to look like she'd been fighting, which she had, only with her own thoughts. Harry was eagerly studying, something that made Hermione so proud of her friend. Especially given the revelations he'd made during the summer about the prophecy and his fated meeting with Voldemort. But he was studying _that_ book.

She knew that without Professor Snape's negative attitude towards him, Harry would improve in Potions, but the tome had allowed him access to the personal notations of a genius of the art. Hermione has struggled a lot at first, considering it cheating, but soon revising her opinion. It was more an advanced study guide. One Harry had offered to share with her.

Yet it's unknown origin made her nervous, and while the tips had thus far proven incredible, she had been scared that one may prove hideously dangerous. So, she had researched, as she was known to do. And now she had the answer.

But…

She was afraid of Harry's reaction. The last time she had felt this nervous about talking to Harry had been before she'd gone to Professor McGonagall about the mystery Firebolt. And that had led to months of distance from her best friend. Something she was very keen to avoid a second time.

Stealing her resolve, she stood, the clippings in hand and walked towards Harry. Her gait was sluggish as she approached and as she came to rest beside him, he turned and gave her that smile and made the whole thing so much harder again.

"Hi, Hermione." He cheered, looking at her happily.

"Hi. Can we talk for a minute?" she replied softly, "somewhere private?"

Her eyes flicked down at the open book and Harry caught the movement. His smile diminished as he put two and two together and realized what she wanted to talk about.

"Please, Harry. I promise it's important."

He nodded, closing the book slightly harder than normal as he rose. The pair walked silently from the common room, no-one paying attention to the frequent sight of them off somewhere together. They wandered for several minutes before Hermione stopped and opened a door at random, finding herself looking into a slightly roomy broom cupboard that was surprisingly devoid of supplies.

She gave a soft noise of surprise as Harry pushed her inside and closed the door, casting a strong locking charm on it and a one-way silencing charm. Hermione wanted to yell at him but was impressed at the fact he had managed both silently, something he had been struggling with in class.

He turned to her, his wand alight and a finger held to his lips. He mouthed the word Slytherins before sitting opposite her with his back to the wall, indicating the space opposite himself. Despite his position, Hermione noted that Harry was listening closely for sounds from outside and still had his wand at the ready. She trusted him to deal with anyone who interrupted and used the silence to prepare herself. When his eyes locked back on her once more, she knew her time was up.

"So…" he offered.

"Professor Snape," Hermione replied, simply.

Harry looked back at her with a look of confusion and she steeled herself.

"I've spent the last day researching and I found what I was looking for, Harry."

Hermione handed him the newspaper clippings she'd found and copied. The first was a simple school newsletter, something she'd expect a club to issue to its members discussing the new Captain of the Ravenclaw Gobstones team. A skinny unattractive woman glared out of the picture that was captioned, Eileen Prince. The article made reference to the fact their President had made the position on the team but was otherwise uninteresting.

The second was what Hermione worried about. It was a small clipping from the Announcements section of the Daily Prophet. The clipping itself was tiny, but the information within had Harry's eyes widening and flicking back to her several times as he read. Most wouldn't find anything overly interesting about a simple marriage announcement celebrating the wedding of a pureblood to a simple muggle man, but the names made all the difference to them.

The final clipping was from the same section of the same paper, but this one had been nearer the top and had the date on it. 13th of January 1960. A birth notification that had surely been unnoticed by most at the time. Simple and short, it simply noted the birth of the first son of Tobias and Eileen Snape, whom they had named Severus.

Harry dropped his hands as he finished the three clippings, letting them loose from his hands where they drifted downward, coming to rest on the book in question. Calling attention to the huge shift the newsprint had made in the minds of both of the occupants of the cupboard.

"It belongs to Snape?" He whispered.

Hermione nodded. "I understand how you're feeling Harry. I know you don't like him, but…" Hermione paused as Harry glanced up at her, his expression unreadable even to her. "Professor Slughorn has said many times that the best students he's ever taught were Professor Snape and your mum. And he's been teaching here for decades."

Harry's face contorted at this information and if she didn't know better, she'd think he was pained by the news. "I know I was hard on you about the book, but if it really belongs to Professor Snape…" Hermione steeled herself for this next part, "I'd like to use it with you."

Harry's eyes flicked up rapidly and locked on her face. "I don't think I can do that, Hermione."

Hermione's head dropped as she awaited the pain of third-year all over again. She had taken something special from Harry and he was going to hate her for it.

"But," Hermione glanced back up at Harry, who was looking at the book with a clear expression of disgust, "maybe you can go through it and copy the changes. I'll order another new copy and we can work off those."

Hermione was thoroughly confused. Harry didn't hate her for taking something from him, he was disgusted with the book itself. She knew he had issues with Professor Snape, but didn't think it was so bad that he would throw away the immense help those notations had been.

"Can I… may I ask why?"

Harry didn't reply, he simply leant forward, swept the clippings off the book and flipped it open. He flicked it around so it was resting on Hermione's lap and pointed his lit wand at a section of the margin that almost seemed as if full of doodles of flowers.

"I did some research too. I am not as good at herbology as Neville, but he identified these immediately. Apparently his Gran has an entire flower bed full of them at home. He said they're to honour the losses of the last war. And… after what I saw last year… I can't use that book anymore."

Hermione looked closer and recognized the flowers herself. Her mother had many lilies spread throughout her gardens. And that's when it clicked for her. Harry wasn't rejecting her or the knowledge of the notes. He was disgusted at the fact his hateful teacher had a thing for his mother. The very thought made Hermione sick, and she was certain it wasn't even half of what Harry must be feeling.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't know." Hermione gasped.

"S'alright, just I don't ever want to see that book again." He whispered back.

Hermione nodded as she gathered the clippings and the now thoroughly gross book and stood up. "I'll copy the potions notes tonight and then we can burn it if you like."

Harry glanced up at her and gave a soft smile. It was far from the one he had given her before all this had begun, but it was a start. "Thank you."


End file.
